Second Chances
by BlondeOnBlonde34
Summary: Just as Meggie's marriage is falling apart, Farid shows up to heal her. Ok, I officaly suck at writing summaries. This is for those who never really got into Doria. My first story, so please don't be too harsh! T, to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

The traveler slowly trudged up the dirt road. He was dirty, and dusty, and his shoulders were hunched close to his body. But still he marched on, towards the house were his hearts desired lived.

Meggie sighed, and pushed her long blond hair out from her face. She was stuck at home. Lately she was stuck at home more and more often. Doria was away on another great invention's show.

In the beginning, it had been perfect, just like Fenoglio had written. She gave him ideas, and he loved her unconditionally. But this loving unconditionally was more wearing than a thousand fights. There was no spark to his love, no flaming passion. Just devotion.

She wasn't exactly sure when they'd started to drift apart. It was just little things first. He didn't kiss her first thing in the morning anymore. Then, like magic, there were two twin beds instead of the double they'd shared. He started traveling more. She wouldn't seem him for months on end, and when he came back he was always even farther away.

She started idly cleaning a desk she'd wiped a dozen times before. It was her writing desk, the one thing that wasn't pervaded by him. He would never come into her office, and lately she'd stopped going to his. He didn't approve of her writing. He never believed her when she told him how she'd come to the Inkworld. He was almost relieved when Fenoglio died.

Lately, Meggie had been having dreams about the boy she'd left behind. For ten years she was sure she'd made the right choice. Now, she wasn't so certain. She dreamt about him still, the quicksilver boy who'd claimed her heart. He kissed different than Doria. Stronger, and more assured. She'd always found his cockiness annoying, but it was better than Doria, who seemed to ask her permission every time they kissed.

But she'd made her decision, and she'd stick with it. It wouldn't have worked, anyway. He would have always loved Dustfinger more than he loved her. Then again, he hadn't seen his old teacher in ten years either.

She loved Doria; she knew that. And what she'd felt for Farid had been nothing more than a passing infatuation.

She was absolutely certain about her mind and heart for all of two minutes, when the doorbell rang.

When Meggie first answered the door, Farid wanted nothing more than to throw his arms around her and hold her forever. She looked a bit like Resa, but softer and, in his opinion, prettier. No, not pretty: beautiful. His angel.

While he'd been wandering all the long years, he'd thought a lot over what he'd done. He hated himself sometimes, for all the pain he'd caused her. His obsession with bringing Dustfinger back had hurt both of them. And Dustfinger was back now. But the thing he'd felt the most shame over was how he'd flirted and kissed with all those girls, for fun or for information, while she'd sat alone, faithfully waiting for him. Yes, he did hate himself.

Meggie was absolutely shocked. He looked so different, and exactly the same. Sadder, but stronger. For a second, she felt as weak as a kitten. She just wanted to fling herself at him, and beg him to love her. But then she remembered all he'd done. For a minute, they both stood, immersed in their own memories, thinking about the exact same things, and not knowing it. But at the end, they both same to the same conclusion: they hated him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" said Meggie. She didn't care if they'd parted on reasonably friendly terms; he had no right to show up now!

"I wanted to see you," he said softly.

"Well, come in, if you must," she said rudely. She sounded like Elinor, but she didn't care. She turned swiftly on her heel, and strode down the corridor. Farid followed meekly.

'He's gotten a lot less cocky,' she observed. 'Before, he would have walked right in and kissed me. Hmmm, that might not have been so bad . . .' she immediately scolded herself, and resumed thinking about all the horrible things he'd done to her.

He observed her house. It was beautiful. Strange things spun form the ceiling, some whose purpose was obvious, others that seemed nothing more than ornamental. Pictures lined the walls, some canvas, others photos. She'd apparently told her husband about cameras. There was a picture of Roxane, spinning and laughing, staring at someone out of view. Her parents, with a little baby, then later on with a child of about five. Fenoglio, sitting at his desk, writing. And there was Dustfinger. He stopped short in the corridor. He was blowing fire in a palace, with the flames forming beautiful shapes above him.

Meggie noticed him pausing and backpedaled to see what had caught his attention. "Oh, yes, that was when Viola remarried," she said, her heart melting a little when she saw how much he'd missed Dustfinger. "She asked him especially to perform," she added, hoping that would brighten him up even further.

It did. He turned to her with the smile that she'd missed so much, the one that still made her heart ache. "I was so worried that something had happened to him!" he said, relief evident in his voice.

"Haven't you gone to see him yet?" she asked, puzzled. He'd always loved the fire dancer more than her.

"No," Farid said shaking his head. "I came straight here."

Her heart lurched a little. To cover it up, she led him to another photo. "Here," she said, smiling ever so slightly. "I think you'll like this."

There was Dustfinger again, this time with Roxane. They were holding two small bundles and smiling beatifically.

Farid was puzzled. Why were they holding loaves of bread?

Meggie decided to elaborate, seeing the confusion on his face. "About five years after you left, Roxane got pregnant again. This one," she said, pointing to the pink bundle on the left, which Farid realized was a baby "Is named Aesudio. They had twins, a boy and a girl. The boy's name is Farid," the ghost of a smile on her face breaking into a full blown grin. "Dustfinger told Roxane that he would now actually have a son named Farid, and she finally agreed that, although he's like a father to you, you two are not actually related. Mo and Resa were named godparents."

He stared at the photo with a mixture of joy, and an overwhelming feeling of loss. So much he'd missed while he was away. But he was going to but it all to rights, starting with the girl he'd never stopped loving.


	2. Chapter II

AN: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed! I'm so glad of your support. Warning, cursing in this chapter.

Disclaimer: Yes, I am totally Cornelia Funke. Which is why I'm posting this on a fan fiction site instead of making millions. Of course I'm not, you dolt!

They sat in the kitchen, not talking. The silence stretched on into what seemed like hours to Meggie, but she couldn't say anything to fill the void. She couldn't tell him she loved him; she was married, for Christ's sake! She didn't even know if she really loved him. She'd been a teenager. This entire scenario was so screwed up; she didn't even know where to start.

He was content to simply look at her.

She spoke first. "Where have you been?" Her voice sounded like she hadn't used it for a hundred years.

He shrugged, the way he always had. "I went to go learn about other fire jugglers. Do you know there's people who are actually better than Dustfinger?" he said, incredulity dripping from his voice. She had to smile. He still idolized him, she could see.

"Tell me more," she said, her desire for knowledge combined with her need for him, even just his voice.

He told her about a land where all the people lived on the water, and could hold their breath for hours. They hadn't been fire people, but he told her about a tribe that worshipped fire, and could control it in extraordinary ways. To accentuate his point, he set the table on fire, and when she touched it, it felt like running water. Afterwards, the table didn't bare any marks.

He confessed that he sometimes thought he'd wandered out of the Inkworld. She nodded, recognizing his tales of little blue men with beards, and of dancing lights above a landscape of snow, from books she had read.

They sat and talked till it was almost dark. But it was about nothing personal, and Meggie timidly decided to bridge that gap.

"So, no magical foreign wife?" she asked, smiling to hide to worry in her voice.

He caught it anyway. "No, Meggie. I've been waiting, you see, for the most beautiful woman in the world to forgive me."

"You couldn't have done anything that bad," she said lightly, trying to keep the same informal, no-commitment tone that had been before present in the conversation.

"Oh, but I did," he said shaking his head slowly. "I did many bad things, but the worst was leaving when I should have stayed and fought."

"But she was happy."

"Is she?"

She turned away. "Yes," she said quietly, "Perfectly happy." She was dismayed to find tears streaking down her cheeks. Maybe she lied a bit to her parents about how things with Doria were, but that didn't mean she had anything to hide.

He touched her cheek tenderly. "I waited for you. For ten years, I waited. Everything I did was for you. I would sometimes think 'I can't wait to show Meggie,' then I would realized you weren't there, and worse, you probably didn't care. Meggie, if you don't love me, I'll wander the world for another ten years, and another, and another, till you tell me you care. Answer me, Meggie: Do you love me?"

She couldn't lie, not now. She turned back to face him, not caring if her makeup was running. "Yes," she whispered the certainty clear in her voice. "Yes, I love you."

He kissed her. Her blood pounded in a way it hadn't since she was fifteen. He held her like she was the most precious thing in the world, as delicate as spun glass. She'd always loved him; she'd deluded herself for the stability she knew Doria would provide.

They finally broke away. He was so happy he could burst. Meggie loved him! This was even better than when Dustfinger was back. She mattered to him more than his old mentor ever had.

Meggie was happy too, for about five seconds. Then she realized it could never be. There wasn't a thing as divorce in Inkworld, and even if there was, Doria would be crushed. She might no longer love him as a husband, but he would always be her friend.

"Farid," she said softly, almost timidly. "You have to leave now."

"Why?"

She stood form the table suddenly, violently. "Fuck it, Farid! You can't just show up and expect to be part of my life again! I'm married, Farid! Bloody married!"

He stood up and grabbed her hands. "But you don't love him, you love me. We can run away," he said, his eyes shining. "I can show you everything, this world and all the others. You always wanted to travel! Please, Meggie!"

"No, Farid," she said, stepping away from him. "I have a life here. I will always love you, but I can't leave Mo and Resa, and John- he's my little brother, for Christ's sake! He's only ten; he'll barely know his sister. And Roxane and Dustfinger's cottage has become like a second home."

She tried to compose herself. What was it about him that made her feel so passionate? Probably the fire, she reasoned.

"I'm sorry," she said, her heart breaking. "You'll have to wander another ten years. But you should see Dustfinger before you leave; he's missed you."

He walked away, not saying a word. But beneath his clam exterior, his mind was churning. Dustfinger would have the answerer. Dustfinger always knew what to do.

AN: Yay! This is so much fun! Reviews always appreciated!


	3. Chapter III

AN: This is a mini chapter, 'cause I have serious writers block on this story, and I don't wanna be one of those authors who only updates every three months. Plus, there's a random line in here I can't get rid of.

Disclaimer: If I owned this, Meggie and Farid would be married with at least five kids ; )

Dustfinger was working in the fields. He paused to stretch, and looked at the setting sun. That was fire too, and therefore part of him. He was getting old; his red hair was streaked with grey, and he didn't move so easily any more. But he could still play with fire as well as he ever had.

He looked down at the cottage. Smoke was coming from the little chimney, so Roxane was probably cooking dinner. The cottage looked a little odd now, ever since the Motley Folk had helped them build another room for the twins. But it was still home.

He was happier than he thought possible in the past ten years. Brianna was still working as a maid, though not in the palace any longer. Violante never quite forgave her for loving Cosimo. But his daughter was happy too.

The one spot of sadness in his life was Farid. He missed the boy. He often wondered what had become of him. He hoped he was juggling fire, somewhere. The boy had been very good.

For some strange reason, his eyes were drawn to the road at the very moment a dusty person came into view. At first, he thought it was maybe Silvertounge, or Mo, as he called him now or maybe a customer for Roxane. But then two fiery rockets burst into the sky, showering sparks. Dustfinger only knew one other firedancer good enough to do that.

He started running "Farid!" he called, hoping he was right, that the boy had finally come home. "Farid!"

The traveler looked up. It was Farid, older and quieter, but still Farid. "Dustfinger!" he yelled running just as fast as the older man.

The old firedancer caught the boy in a bone crushing hug. He was still bigger, even though the lad had grown.

For the second time that day, Farid was perfectly content. He was home.

AN: One, two, three, four! What does this author long for? Reviews, reviews, reviews!


	4. Chapter IV

Author's Note: I really suck at making time for this, but my muse is apparently off on spring vacation too.

Disclaimer: God, this always depresses me. No, I'm not Cornelia Funke and I'm not making any money off of this.

Farid sat at Dustfinger's table, slurping soup. He looked around as he ate. The cottage was warm and cozy. The second Roxane knew that he'd come back, she'd left immediately for the market, taking Aesudio and little Farid with her. Apparently she hadn't outgrown her dislike for him. But Farid couldn't wait to meet the boy his old master had named after him.

Dustfinger lounged against a wall. If he was the sort of person who skipped around and sang, he would have, but he considered it beneath his dignity. He stuck to grinning widely, feeling like his face was going to split apart.

Farid finally finished his second bowl of soup, and sat back, satisfied. Eating had been sporadic while he'd been traveling, and he'd missed having a steady meal.

Dustfinger came and sat down next to him. "Where have you been all these years, kid?" he asked. Farid sat up, and started to tell his story.

"Well, once I'd left, I didn't really know where I was going," he began, grinning sheepishly. "It was the sort of journey where it's more important to be coming from somewhere than going somewhere. And I wanted to get away from . . . well, you know." Dustfinger did know, or at least had a pretty good idea, but that could be discussed later.

"But pretty soon I decided I wanted to learn from other fire dancers. Oh, Dustfinger, you should have seen some of them . . ." He then began a series of very long and complex stories that would be interesting to no one but a fire juggler. Dustfinger, of course, listened attentively.

When Farid was finally finished, Dustfinger asked the question that he'd been waiting to ask. "Farid, if it was so wonderful out there, then why did you ever come back?"

The boy- or, man now, the old fire dancer supposed- twiddled for a bit, finding his bare feet very interesting. "Her, I suppose," he said softly.

Dustfinger nodded. "Ah. Her."

"Not that I didn't miss you," Farid hastily reassured him. The man didn't need it- he knew how deep both their affections ran. "But it was her that kept me awake at nights."

"You do know she's been married, quite happily, for almost ten years?"

Farid shook as head adamantly. "No, not happily."

Despite the seriousness of the topic, Dustfinger cracked a smile. "Just that unforgettable, huh, that she could never got over you?"

"Oh, no, I went to see her."

Dustfinger was a little surprised. "And she didn't give you a piece of her mind?"

Farid smiled a broken, almost hopeful smile. "No. She kissed me. Well, technically I kissed her, but she did kiss me back. Now, I've found, in my travels, that happily married women do not kiss men other than their husbands."

Dustfinger sat, shocked, for about five seconds. Then he started to laugh, bending over, and gasping for breath. "You kissed Meggie-", he gasped out, and then he couldn't breathe again.

Farid was starting to get annoyed. "What's so funny about me kissing Meggie?" he asked sharply.

Dustfinger's laughter had subsided into something that sounded remarkably like giggles. But everyone knows fire dancers don't giggle. "Well, it's just that, you come back, and the first thing you do is kiss Meggie. You don't talk to her about her and Doria not living together anymore, or talk to Doria, you just kiss her. It makes me feel like, despite evidence to the contrary, you never did grow up." He sighed contentedly. "Oh, it makes me feel young."

"We talked," Farid said defensively. "Over tea. But I didn't come to you for witty comments, I came for advice. How can I get her back?"

Dustfinger leaned back. "That is something that is most likely nearly impossible. The only way it traditionally happens is if you kill Doria. This does not seem like a very good solution to me, but correct me if I'm wrong." After Farid empathically shook his head, he continued. "Well, I know a bit about married women. Everything that follows is a men's talk and I'd be very glad of you mentioned none of it to Roxane."

"She wouldn't let me near enough to tell her," Farid muttered.

"True. Anyway, before Roxane and I had even met, I was courting a young lady who turned out to be married. In the typical fashion of young men, I continued courting her. She then informed me that in two circumstances can a wife leave her husband; firstly, if there is proof he physically abuses her, and secondly, if it is revealed he is already married, or there is proof he had a child by another woman. Men," he said, a bitter smile twisting his features, "are bound by no such rules."

Farid mulled this over. "So, if I can get Doria to leave Meggie, she's mine?"

Dustfinger hesitated. "In a certain sense, yes."

"Oh, no," Farid said tiredly. "What's the catch?"

"Technically, she'd still be married to him. She's free to be with whoever she wants, but she can never remarry."

"But she'd still be mine," Farid said decisively.

Dustfinger smiled and said "Yes, she would be yours."

Farid cracked his knuckles. "Then we need a plan."

Meggie wandered her house. She felt so alone. She knew that making Farid leave was the right thing to do, but her heart told her otherwise. Farid made her feel whole, complete, like he had taken away a part of her when he'd left, and she'd only gotten it back now.

But she was well aware of the laws of the Inkworld. And even if her heart was telling her otherwise, this was the smart thing to do.

She heard the large wooden door creak open. She tried to bring a smile to her face, and only barely succeeded. It must be Doria, back from his trip.

She squared her shoulders and smoothed down her hair. She would take control of her life. She was a woman!

She ran out to meet him. He was still incredibly handsome, his brown curls falling into those bright blue eyes she used to love so much. She summoned up as much of that old feeling as she could, and threw herself into his arms.

She tried to melt into him, like the romance songs always described, but he was just so hard, and he was acting like he was distracted. She rose her face to his, kissing him with all that she wished she had. He went along with it for a second, and then pulled himself away.

"Meggie, dear, what has gotten into you?" he asked, slightly irritable. He started moving towards his workshop. Meggie, desperate to try and bridge the gaps that had come between them, followed.

"Love, I missed you," she said, as seductive as she could be. Which wasn't much. She was a far too earnest person.

"Yes, yes I missed you too," he said. "Now, excuse me, but I really have to get some work done." And then he turned his back on her and walked away.

She stood in the hallway, feeling more alone then when it was just her in this big, empty house. She blinked rapidly, trying to dislodge to moisture. She didn't cry. She never cried. Why would she start now?

But she couldn't help it. She walked to her room as quickly as she could. She said down on the quilt she'd sewed herself, and seeing the identical quilt on Doria's bed, promptly burst into tears, and threw herself down onto her small, one person bed, to cry as heartbroken girls have for time out of mind.

AN: Doria has returned! ('Jaws' theme song) Reviewing would make me happy, but it would make you happier, 'cos you'd know you made me happy! And if you don't get that, review anyway!


	5. Chapter V

**Wow, I should have updated this months ago. Bad Layla! Enjoy, and I hope it was worth the wait!**

* * *

Meggie walked along the dirt road slowly. She'd taken to wandering at night when she couldn't sleep. She composed stories in her head, but forgot them as soon as she got back home.

The way Doria acted was nothing new; she was almost used to it. But after Farid, she realized she deserved so much better. He would love her, he would be her equal.

She peered along at the pathway. Moon lace, a plant only in the Inkworld, grew on the side of the road. She loved moon lace. Doria used to go out and collect a bouquet for her every morning before breakfast. He'd bring her breakfast, Belgian waffles with ripe strawberries and mimosa's on Sundays. It hadn't all been bad. Parts had been quite wonderful. But it never added up. She couldn't balance it, like people balanced checkbooks in her own world.

She realized she was walking the road to Dustfinger's house. Farid would be there, she was almost certain. She wanted to talk to him. She wouldn't say right now, wouldn't even think right now, that she would say what she really truly wanted to say.

The outline of the cottage appeared in her line of sight. She began to hurry, and soon she was running, her bare feet slapping against the road in time to the rhythm of her heart. Thump thump, thump thump.

She was finally in the front yard. She could see Farid and Dustfinger through the window sitting and talking. She suddenly thought that this was a terrible idea. He needed some time alone with his mentor, and she would just be interrupting.

She leaned against the window, and caught strains of their conversation.

". . . if her thought she was cheating on him . . ." Dustfinger was saying.

"Or was cheating on him." Farid added. "With me."

With a sickening crunch, Meggie started to think they might be talking about her. She felt a little dizzy, but leaned closer.

"But would he still leave her? What does he think about cheating?" Farid was continuing.

"It's not exactly a topic of discussion at family gatherings," said Dustfinger somewhat sharply. "So I'd assume he dislikes it."

"Why can't Meggie just leave him for me?" Farid whined.

Meggie had heard enough. She barged in through the door, and marched into the kitchen.

"Do you even care about what I think about this?" she said to a shocked Farid and Dustfinger. "That I'd prefer Doria to a man-no, a boy- who plots behind my back on ways to get my husband to leave me?"

"Meggie-" Farid began, but she cut him off.

"Say what you will about Doria, but at least he's a man, not some silly boy who thinks that one kiss will solve ten years problems." With that, she turned and made her dramatic exit.

But once she'd walked for several minutes back the way she came, she veered off the road and sunk to the wet grass. She touched her cheeks and realized she'd been crying. She laughed, suddenly, the sound piercing the night air. Then she finally gave in and started sobbing.

She stopped after about ten minutes, and curled into a ball. She'd had worse pains. Her mother had had a shaky child delivery, and she wasn't sure if she'd make it. Her father had been shot far too many times. But she'd never been so truly, absolutely betrayed. By Dustfinger, who was a second father, but mostly by Farid. What she'd loved most about him was how he respected her, and made her feel like a woman, but here she was, breaking like the little girl she'd been ten years ago.

She wiped off her face, and started heading home.

* * *

Farid and Dustfinger sat in absolute shock for several seconds. Then Dustfinger leaned back in his chair, and said, simply and quietly, "Fuck."

Farid felt like pounding something. Mostly himself, but that wall would do. He got up, and proceeded to bash his fist against it, leaving a smear of blood where his knuckles split open. Dustfinger just sat.

"Well, what'll we do now?" the older man said.

"Do you think she'll still take me back?" Farid asked.

Dustfinger snorted. "Not a chance in hell, kid."

"Then I leave," Farid said simply.

* * *

Meggie finally reached home. She looked at the big, empty house, and felt like crying again. But no; she wasn't going to break like that, not ever again.

She pushed on the front door and it opened. She looked at it with slight curiosity. She remembered locking it when she left, but it was awfully late, and she was tired.

She walked into the cavernous front hall, and climbed up the long, winding staircase. What in the daylight was beautiful and filled with light, in the night was spooky, empty and cold. When she reached the top of the stair case, she made a split second decision, and turned down the hallway towards her husband's room.

She wanted to be with Doria, and leave Farid behind and just . . . forget.

She heard a noise from Doria's room, stopped and frowned. What was going on?

She walked a little faster down the hall, wanting to know what the hell was happening. There it was again, a high pitched sound. As she got closer, she heard . . . was that a giggle?

Finally, she reached the end of that seemingly endless hall. She pushed on the strangely open door, revealing . . .

* * *

**Me: Muhahah! I'm not going to tell you what she found!**

**Inner conscience: You can be such a bitch**

**Me: Who invited you?**

**Inner conscience: Not the point here. And due to your not so subtle hints, everyone's gonna guess anyway.**

**Me: Shut up.**

**Inner conscience: No.**

**scuffling sounds**

**Okay, now that she's gone, I have an important announcement! READ THIS!!!!!!!!!!! My friend, Hannah Moskowitz, wrote a book called 'Break'. It rocks, please check it out!**


	6. Chapter VI

**Wow, this has been forever! Thanks to Inklover4eva for finally getting me off my ass!**

Farid had just about finished packing. By packing, he meant looking at the clothes he already had, groaning, and putting them back in his bag. He also accepted a couple of rolls of bread from Dustfinger, but refused to take anything of real sustenance.

The two men stood in the kitchen. Half of Dustfinger wanted to recklessly follow Farid, to dance again, but most of him knew he couldn't. All of Farid wanted to be beside Dustfinger, to stay and make a life, but he knew he wouldn't. They were stuck apart again, and this time hurt only a little less than death.

Dustfinger fished something out of his back pocket. "Here," he said, thrusting the folded object at Farid. Farid tentatively uncrumpled it. It was a faded family photograph. Mo and Resa were sitting together with a little boy in their laps. Dustfinger and Roxane were with the twins, and Brianna was sulking very prettily. Then there was Meggie. Farid's breath caught in his throat. She was in the middle of a laugh, her blonde hair shinning.

"Doria was off on a business trip," Dustfinger elaborated as Farid continued to just stare. "All on her own, she always seemed a little lighter."

Farid swallowed hard. He was going to miss her so much all over again. But she didn't want him to stay, and he wanted to make her happy. It was time to be a man.

He gave Dustfinger a faltering smile. "See you in ten years."

Dustfinger grabbed him in a bone crushing hug. "Take care of yourself," he whispered.

Farid clapped him on the shoulder in a surprisingly grown up gesture. "Always have," he said in a slightly watery voice.

As he walked out of the door, he didn't look back. He knew he'd be forced to stay, and that might hurt just as much as leaving.

He continued down Dustfinger's front path to the well-worn dirt road. He walked with just his thoughts for a bit, deeply contemplating his life's journey and his own path while moodily staring at the stars. "Life is like a road that-" he began to say somewhat pretentiously to himself, before he was slammed into by a swift and possibly blind figure.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"Farid!" The figure cried. Farid's head shot up. Of course he knew who it was.

Meggie unexpectedly threw her arms around him. Of course he embraced her back, but he was a little startled. His unrest was not helped by the fact she started laughing hysterically.

He removed her arms from his neck, instead just grasping her hands. "Meggie," he said with a weary kind of patience. "Would you care to explain what's going on?"

She composed herself a little, but she couldn't conceal her grin.

"Doria's cheating one me!" she burst out, and started laughing madly again.

****

After Meggie had pushed open the door to her husband's bedroom, she had apparently found him going at it like rabbits with another woman. Farid continued to be disturbed by how much she was laughing.

"You know what this means, right?" she said.

Farid's heart sped up. "That you're going to leave him for me?"

Meggie sighed. "Will you ever learn? Yes, it means that, but you have to understand that that's not all it mean. When I walked in on my husband of ten years screwing another girl, my first reaction should not have been relief. It's like," she stalled, searching for the right words. "It's like how I always flip a coin when I'm stuck on a decision."

"I don't follow," said Farid.

"I don't rely on the coin to make my decision for me," Meggie continued. "I do it because for the split second when the coin's in the air, I know which side I really want it to land on."

"I'm not leaving Doria because he's cheating on me," Meggie went on. "I'm leaving him because I don't love him anymore, and this made me realize it. And I'm not running away with you because he cheated on me. I'm running away with you because I love you more, and always have."

Farid stood, stunned. "I've been an idiot, haven't I?" he said quietly.

Meggie gave him a gentle, teasing smile. "Slightly."

He leaned down and kissed her. This wasn't a kiss born of rage and pain and tears. This was a beginning kiss.

After they broke apart, something occurred to Farid. "Who was Doria having an affair with?"

For some reason, this started Meggie off on another laughing fit. "Brianna," she finally gasped out.

Farid stood dumbfounded. "Dustfinger's daughter, Brianna?" he asked.

Meggie nodded through her giggles.

And Farid began to laugh too, and he thought this is how relationships should be. Not born in the rain, or in the kitchen, or in a cave, but on a familiar road in the middle of laughter. This, the fire bender thought, was a beautiful start.

**Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! Not sure at this point if I'm gonna continue this . . . **


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